


The Way to a Man's Heart

by zjemciciastko



Category: Motorcycling RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Fluff, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-28
Updated: 2018-10-28
Packaged: 2019-08-08 19:36:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16435508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zjemciciastko/pseuds/zjemciciastko
Summary: Jorge draws skulls on people's coffee. Marc is annoyingly hyper. Valentino isplainannoying.And Dani, well. Dani gets caught up in all of that, somehow.(Or the "Jorge is the grumpy barista" Coffee Shop AU)





	The Way to a Man's Heart

**Author's Note:**

  * For [jorgelorenzo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jorgelorenzo/gifts).



> Dear Jazz, this one is for you. Thank you for being an awesome friend and having the patience to listen to me freaking out about writing and reassuring me all the time. Thank you for motivating me and giving me the kicks when I need them. You know I love you, and you're partially to blame for this, so I hope you like it <3
> 
> Okay, I know that the Coffee Shop AU is so overused that everyone probably hates it by now. But every fandom needs at least one of these, so I decided to sacrifice myself and write it. I hope you can enjoy it anyway!

“Why do you draw these skulls all the time? This can’t possibly attract the customers, don’t you think?”

Valentino looks down at his cup, stirring the coffee. Jorge’s trademark skull vanishes among the foam and sugar, and he blows on the surface to cool the drink down a little. 

There’s no one else beside them inside because, technically, the coffee shop isn’t even open yet. They’ve stumbled across each other in the door of their shared apartment, Valentino just coming in, Jorge just coming out, and since neither of them was awake enough, going to Jorge’s coffee shop, conveniently located right below their flat, seemed like the best idea at the time. 

Jorge smirks; he doesn’t take insulting his art lightly. “I can make a special design for you.”

He grabs the coffee from Valentino’s hands, pouring it out to the sink, starting the coffee machine once again. It hums as it grinds the beans, and Jorge cannot wait to get his hands on the final product, tapping his foot rhythmically. When the coffee is ready, Jorge draws the design on it, before presenting it to Valentino, visibly proud of himself.

“Jorge,” Valentino says. Jorge doesn’t like his expression at all. “I know you like dicks, but I have a boyfriend, if you haven’t noticed yet.” 

Jorge grimaces.

“Asshole,” he mutters. “No, don’t say anything,” he protests before Valentino can open his mouth again, surely to grace Jorge with another dirty comment. 

Valentino shrugs, licking his lips after he drinks that part of the coffee foam where the penis was drawn on it. “Not saying anything.” 

_Right._

They don’t get to bicker for much longer, interrupted by the opening door. Jorge’s ready to tell whoever comes in that they’re not open yet, he knows he should’ve bought another business hours sign after losing that first, but the words die on his lips. 

The man comes over, really short, black hair, and he says something, but Jorge doesn’t hear what, too caught up in staring at those dark, round eyes. “Could you repeat it, please?”

“Can I get a caramel latte?”

“Of course,” Jorge confirms quickly. He’s worried about coming off as a little too eager as he takes a cup out. “Soy milk? Or maybe lactose-free?” 

The man smiles, seemingly more at ease now. “No, thank you.”

Jorge rakes through his mind, searching for more things he could say, not finding anything for a moment. Then, it hits him, and he blurts the question out without thinking it through. “What’s your name?”

The man blinks, confused. “There are no other customers here, why would you need my name?”

_Shit. What now? Think, think, think._

“That’s our policy,” Jorge answers, the lie slipping through his lips easily. Valentino’s smirk unsettles him more than it should, but Jorge brushes it off, swearing to murder his flatmate if Valentino as much as breathes louder than necessary. 

His lie must’ve been good enough, nonetheless, as the man shrugs and finally gives an answer. “Dani.”

Jorge scribbles the name on the paper cup, thankful for that marker pen that’s been lying next to the cash register for months now. The machine’s buzz is a comforting sound, calming his racing mind as he observes the coffee being poured, steam hovering above the drink. 

Jorge freezes with his arm stretched out halfway towards the cup, realization hitting him suddenly. 

_He cannot possibly draw a skull on Dani’s coffee._

The milk seems to be mocking him, taunting him, his favourite design finally biting him in the ass. Jorge’s tempted to whip his phone out and google _latte art_ , but his pride doesn’t allow him to. However, he can’t make Dani wait forever, either, so he grabs the milk pot and tilts it over the cup. 

Jorge regards the drawing with scrutiny. The heart is a bit crooked, one half disproportionately bigger than the other, but at least it’s nothing cranium-shaped. 

He offers the cup to Dani, his actual heart missing a beat when their fingers brush. “There you go.”

Dani smiles at him. “Thank you,” he says, taking one of the wooden stirrers. 

Jorge’s heart might’ve skipped another beat or two. His sight follows Dani to the door, scanning the short silhouette from head to toes. Jorge refuses to admit that it stayed on Dani’s rear longer that it was necessary. 

“You never ask for customers’ names.” Valentino narrows his eyes. “Do you perhaps have a crush?” 

Somehow, Jorge’s managed to forget about his presence at the other end of the countertop, and he cringes, mentally preparing for all that teasing he’ll get. “I don’t have a crush.”

The heat creeps up on his cheeks with a lighting speed. Jorge pretends to be deeply engrossed in reading the label slapped on those coffee beans he’s been using for around a year now. Vale won’t fall for that, Jorge knows, and the last thread of hope he’s been desperately holding onto gets destroyed a few seconds later. 

“You didn’t draw a skull on his coffee, either.” Valentino leans forward, his face now so close that Jorge needs to take a step back. “I know the way you draw the skulls. That wasn’t it.”

“Okay, okay. The guy is handsome, there,” Jorge finally admits, defeated. He knows he’s not winning this one.

Valentino claps his hands together, delighted. “Great! Now that we have this out of the way, we only need to get you a date with Mr. Dream Guy.”

“I don’t need help,” Jorge groans. “Especially not from you.”

The _last _thing he needs is Valentino’s help. He shudders at the mere thought of what Valentino could think of, knowing Valentino well enough to know that nothing good ever comes out of his flatmate’s plans.__

“Which one of us has a boyfriend?” Valentino asks rhetorically, as if that could be a proof of anything. 

Jorge folds his arms in front of his chest. “The little shit doesn’t count,” he says. He doesn’t care about Valentino’s offended expression.

“Sure the small bastard does count.” There’s a great dose of fondness in the way Valentino insults his own boyfriend. “Anyway. Listen, you need to-“

Jorge’s brain shuts down three sentences into Valentino’s intricate plan to revive his non-existent love and sex life. He’s glad he hasn’t had his morning coffee yet, so he can doze off through most of the things Valentino tells him, only waking up when Valentino hits him on the shoulder for not listening. 

Jorge flips him off. Vale can go to hell.

*

The next day, Dani comes back. And the day after that, too, and also the rest days of the week, and he quickly becomes a regular, much to Jorge’s delight.

The only problem is, Dani always comes too early. Jorge’s always in the coffee shop before the official opening to prepare the machines, and Valentino is often lounging around, too, but technically, they don’t open until seven. Dani usually comes around twenty minutes before that. 

Today, Jorge’s alone.

He doesn’t know, and frankly doesn’t care, where Valentino’s disappeared off to, rather enjoying one of those rare moments of peace and quiet. He doesn’t get many of those. This is also his chance to practise those damned hearts he continues to make on Dani’s coffee, because even Jorge can tell that they don’t look all that great.

Taking one of the porcelain cups this time, Jorge waits till the smell of the freshly made beverage hits his nose. Then, he leans over it, drawing the first line.

“You practise hearts for your loverboy? That’s what you draw for him?” a voice speaks over Jorge’s shoulder.

The hold Jorge’s had on the cup goes lax instantly. The cup shatters into a million pieces, the coffee forming tracks among the scattered shards. 

“Sorry,” Valentino says quickly, squatting to help with cleaning the mess on the floor up. For once, he actually looks apologetic. Good for him, because if he didn’t, Jorge wouldn’t hesitate in throwing all of Valentino’s belongings out of the window on the nearest occasion.

Jorge huffs. “You better be.” He kneels next to Valentino and tries to swipe the remains of the porcelain up.

The day is already shaping up to be great. 

They’re too busy exchanging insults to hear the door opening, heated discussion about drawings of hearts going on. It’s a polite _Hi_ that finally manages to catch Jorge’s attention, and he almost hits his head, that’s how fast he stands up. 

“I’m sorry,” Dani says, unsure. “I can come back later if you’re busy.”

“No!” Jorge protests, perhaps a bit too loudly. He scans the area for the nearest object he could throw at Valentino, who’s snickering while picking the last shards up. “I’m not busy at all. The usual?”

Dani doesn’t look any more convinced than he looked a moment ago. “Yes, please.” 

Jorge grabs another cup, a paper one this time, and turns the machine on. “Coming.”

He throws one of the rags at Valentino’s head when Valentino whispers _You wish you were,_ a wave of satisfaction spreading through him when it hits the target on point. 

Jorge executes his daily routine, asking for Dani’s name, even if he remembers it by heart, remembered it after Dani mentioned it for the first time. He simply likes hearing Dani’s voice. Then, he prepares the coffee, always a caramel latte, before drawing the heart, trying to seem approachable and look good the whole time. 

Later, after Dani leaves, Jorge falls onto a chair, heaving a breath. He pulls on the ends of his hair, fingers closing over them tightly.

“You’re smitten.” Valentino smirks at him over his cup. “Absolutely smitten.”

Jorge doesn’t deny it. He really is.

*

Jorge can deal with Valentino bothering him, on a good day, at least. Marc and Valentino together, at the same time, are an entirely different thing. 

Jorge didn’t say anything when he saw half-naked Marc rummaging through his and Valentino’s fridge first thing in the morning. It wasn’t the first time it happened. He also didn’t say anything when Marc and Valentino followed him downstairs to the coffee shop, Marc wearing Valentino’s hoodie, at least three sizes too big, and Valentino with that _fool in love_ expression he always wears when Marc is nearby.

All three of them are at the counter now, Jorge on one side of it, Marc and Valentino on the other.

Jorge refuses to give Marc any coffee because the kid is hyper enough even without it. Instead, he prepares a cup of hot chocolate, making sure there’s not a bit of caffeine in it, before sliding it towards the brat.

Marc thanks him, but of course the kid can’t think before acting, like usual. So Jorge isn’t surprised in the slightest when Marc grabs the cup immediately, inevitably burning his fingers. What Jorge is surprised with, is that Valentino takes Marc’s hands in his and blows little puffs of air on them in a poor attempt to relieve some of Marc’s pain. 

It’s so sweet, it’s disgusting, Jorge thinks.

Thankfully, Jorge gets an excuse not to look at them, as he sees Dani walk in. Dani has a long coat on, the beanie is pulled low on his forehead, and the scarf wrapped around Dani’s neck covers most of his face, only the dark eyes visible above it. Jorge can’t help but find the look adorable.

He shifts from one foot to the other as Dani first hangs the coat on the rack, before coming over, his cheeks and the tips of his ears reddened from the biting cold.

“Hi. The usual, please,” Dani pleads, rubbing his hands together to warm them up.

Jorge can feel Marc and Valentino’s stares on himself, and he throws them a short glare to warn them not to do anything stupid. They remain quiet, to his relief, so he busies himself with preparing Dani’s coffee while Dani sits down at one of the tables, waiting for his order.

Two seconds later, Marc moves closer, elbows on the counter, face held in palms.

Jorge puts that packet of coffee beans he was holding back in the cupboard. He doesn’t miss how Marc’s eyes wander from him to Dani, and back. “What?”

Marc grabs the mug and takes a sip of his no longer hot chocolate. He’s searching for something on Jorge’s face, scanning it thoroughly, and humming, the uneasiness slowly creeping its way up on Jorge’s skin.

“So that’s the guy you like?” Marc asks all of a sudden.

And Jorge’s sure Dani heard it all, because Marc has never had, and still doesn’t have, anything even remotely similar to an indoor voice.

A few things happen at once. First, all of the blood leaves Jorge’s face, and he doesn’t have to check himself in the mirror to know he’s lost all the colour he had up until now. Then, Marc possibly realizes he messed up, and big time, because he throws Valentino a desperate look, a clear plea for help. At last, Valentino grabs Marc by the shoulders and quickly evacuates him outside, sending Jorge an apologetic smile on their way out, shushing his lover when Marc still tries to argue his innocence.

_Bastard knows full well when it’s time to leave._

Jorge regrets that the ground can’t swallow him and end his misery, even more so when he sees Dani approaching. He still has that coffee to serve, though, already paid for, so it’s not like he could just close the business, bury himself in bed and never walk out of it again.

He almost spills the coffee when he’s giving Dani his order, that’s how much his hands are shaking, and he turns around, desperately willing his cheeks to stop burning.

“The coffee’s wrong.”

Jorge turns back swiftly. He might be dying from embarrassment, but that doesn’t mean he’s lowered his standards when it comes to making coffee. Dani’s words feel like a slap to his face. “What’s wrong with it?”

Dani shows him the cup. “See?"

Jorge doesn’t get it. “Look, if you want to make fun of me for having a crush on you, go ahead. But please, stop joking about the coffee.” The exhaustion finally makes its way into his voice, patience lost. “If you don’t like the taste, I can make you a new one or give you a refund. Whichever you want.”

“You always draw a heart for me and today, you didn’t,” Dani says. Then, he adds, “Actually, I’d invite you for a coffee, but I think that would be a little unfortunate, given the circumstances.”

“Wait, you want the heart?”

Dani nods.

Jorge grabs the cup from him faster than Dani can get another word out.

“I like green tea,” Jorge mentions, _casually,_ when he’s drawing the pattern on Dani’s coffee. He’s extra careful to make the lines smooth, not ragged, wanting to make the heart look good. “But I think a strong drink could be better in the current situation."

Dani sits on the bar stool. His legs dangle above the floor, and Jorge bites on his bottom lip not to let any compromising sound out. “The tea will do, I think.”

Tea, coffee, wine. Jorge’s up for whatever, if only it involves him and Dani going somewhere, together. “Tea it is, then."

They reach an agreement in a record time. 

“I thought you were dating that tall guy, though,” Dani says, possibly worried. “I hope you’re not trying to get me into some threesome? It’s fine if that’s what you like, but it’s not really my kind of thing.”

Jorge sighs. One day, he’ll make that plan of murdering Marc and Vale real. “You’ve seen that idiot who can’t keep his mouth shut and who should start counting his minutes, because he doesn’t have many of those left?” Dani nods, now grinning. “That little shit is Vale’s, the tall guy’s, boyfriend. They’ve been dating for a while and they’re so in sync, it’s honesty disgusting. So no, no threesomes involved.” 

The mere thought of a treesome with either Vale or Marc, or both of them, makes Jorge shudder, repulsed. 

Dani seems satisfied with his answer. “Okay, then. When does your shift end?” 

Jorge glances at the clock. “Technically speaking, I’m the owner of this thing.” He gestures around the room to the chairs and tables. “And, technically speaking, I could put up the sign that we’re closed today due to an illness or something.” 

Dani smiles. Jorge smiles back. 

A bit later, when they’re engaged in a long discussion over the steaming mugs of green tea, Jorge receives a text, Valentino’s name showing up as the sender.

_I saw that the coffee shop is closed. I’ll spend the night at Marc’s. The condoms are on the counter, have fun! ;*_

And maybe Jorge would get angry, fuming at Valentino’s comment. But Dani’s hand feels so nice in his that Jorge finds himself not caring at all. He has better things to do. Like pressing his lips against Dani’s, for example.

**Author's Note:**

> I have no rational explanation why Jorge and Valentino would live together, but I regret nothing. 
> 
> Thank you for reading <3
> 
> (You can also find me at 4693words.tumblr.com)
> 
> Edit: Amazing bonbonpich drew a comic based on this fic (Thank you so, so, so much! <3), you can find it here: http://bonbonpich.tumblr.com/post/181457134704/another-rosquezjorgedani-fancomic-i-asked-for  
> Please give it all the love it deserves <3


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